


This Corrosion

by a_lanart



Series: Mystery Verse [31]
Category: Highlander, Torchwood
Genre: Asphyxiation, F/M, Kinky, Necrophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-22
Updated: 2010-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-13 23:28:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_lanart/pseuds/a_lanart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Hart and the immortal Siannon O'Niall have an 'arrangement'</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Corrosion

**Author's Note:**

> Really don't know what train of thought this one arrived on, it ain't any of the usual ones at least. I've not written het in years, and I've not written kinky het like ever. My excuse is that John Hart muse expects kink and that Siannon O'Niall is in the sort of headspace where she will let herself be persuaded - as long as it's on her terms (and believe me, it is. She was very insistent about that even if it isn't clear from this short fic). They're an odd couple but they seem to be taking over my brain. I should perhaps clarify that this takes place after the fic Protect and Survive which is part of the Mystery Verse but post CoE.

Title: This Corrosion  
Author: A Lanart  
Fandom: Highlander/Torchwood  
Characters/pairing: John Hart/OFC (Siannon O'Niall)  
Rating/Spoilers: NC-17 (for the kink). No Spoilers but post CoE.  
Warnings: Temporary character death, consensual erotic asphyxiation, necrophilia  
Disclaimer: BBC and RTD own the Torchwood characters and universe. Panzer/Davis Productions own this concept of immortality. Siannon O'Niall however is mine. No copyright infringement intended, no profit made.

Title from the song by the Sisters of Mercy

~*~

This Corrosion

*

In her saner moments Siannon wondered just what had possessed her to initiate the… arrangement… she had with the entity who called himself John Hart, particularly when she wasn’t certain – despite his blasé insistence – that he was actually human.

Lying on her back while she let him fuck her into oblivion – again – this time with his hands round her neck, gently throttling the life out of her in a bizarre, but oddly harmonious counterpoint did not class as one of her saner moments. The one thing she couldn’t deny was that he made her feel intensely alive, even as she died at his hands.

*

Her skin was so pale and stark beneath his calloused hands, her neck delicate under his persistent fingers; she thrummed with life, even as she struggled for breath while he choked it out of her, allowing him to pound into the heat of her body with unstoppable passion until she convulsed around him in an obscene and arousing hybrid of death throes and ecstasy. It wasn’t long before he was following her with one of the most mind-blowing orgasms he’d had in years, spilling himself into what was now her lifeless corpse. It was only then, while his ragged breathing and thumping heart returned to their normal state, that he realised that he didn’t feel as good as they’d expected he would. It felt wrong to have her waxy pale, unresisting and lifeless beneath his hands, no matter that they had both agreed to this as a natural extension to the twisted games they had been playing – and enjoying – with each other. At least all he had to do was wait, and she would be back with him. He determinedly avoided thinking about how relieved that thought made him, and why, as he rest his head on her still body, his ear over her heart so he could hear the instant she returned to life.

*

Awareness began to seep back before her heart beat and her lungs expanded with their first breath of life returned; it brought her the sensation of wetness on her skin, and a weight resting over her heart. When she eventually took that breath, John raised his head from her chest and she realised just what that wetness signified.

“Tears?” She croaked. John twisted his mouth in what passed for a smile, more genuine than any of the shameless leers she’d seen him practise on others.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” he said. To her ears, now attuned to listening to the meaning beyond his words, it sounded like nothing more than the simple and surprising truth.


End file.
